


Recharge Routine

by Spoon888



Series: Mission And Companion Pieces [14]
Category: Transformers - All Media Types
Genre: Fluff and Humour, Gen, M/M, Megatron Is 'Trying' And That Counts For Something, The Hell That Is Making Small Children Go To Bed, Transformer Sparklings, play fights
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-08-23 18:29:05
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,481
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20247352
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Spoon888/pseuds/Spoon888
Summary: Starscream's eldest sparkling has finally moved out and is living in the air barracks with the other seekers, but in his absence the nighttime routine is no less chaotic.Megatron's incompetency is to blame.





	Recharge Routine

**Author's Note:**

> For another supporter who asked for a little more sparkling content! Thank you!

A calm, soothing environment was required for an efficient bedtime -Shockwave had once advised Starscream, obviously spouting knowledge from his endless well of Soundwave quotes because the scientist himself didn't have a clue about sparkling care.

It was redundant advice anyway, because Starscream could do calm and soothing, and so could Thrax.

Old enough to reason with but young enough to easily manipulate, it was no real task to coax Thrax into his berth with the promise of a story, his bug wide optics staring up at his creator over the top of soft heated insulation sheets as he listened to Starscream regale a tale from his memory banks of a successful war campaign -edited just enough to ensure he looked the hero and Megatron the fool. But it was still the truth, mostly.

"-and sire would have been dismantled by the aliens if his supremely competent and devastatingly handsome second in command hadn't shown up." Starscream's voice rose and fell soothingly as he spoke.

"That's you." Thrax's sleepy smile widened.

"Yes, me." Starscream purred softly, stroking the backs of his fingers over Thrax's helm, "Because unlike sire, _I_ know to look before I leap. And _that's_ why we never run into enemy territory with minimal air support, isn't it?"

Thrax nodded.

"Especially not if that air support is a trine of _Coneheads_." Starscream whispered conspiratorially, watching Thrax's optics blink slowly, shutters getting heavier.

He adjusted the covers over Thrax's flicking wings and began to stand, ready to make a stealthy retreat- when a screaming battle cry echoing in from the next room over snapped Thrax's optics wide open again, his little frame jolting upright in his berth.

Starscream's hands twisted into claws as he glared at the doorway leading to his own berthroom, and the excitable battle cries he was hearing from within. Since Mission had reached 'mech-hood', and immediately demanded the independence he felt his new maturity owed him by moving into the air barracks on the other side of the ship, it had become _Megatron's_ responsibility to put their youngest sparkling to recharge.

A task that was apparently beyond him.

"_Idiot_." Starscream hissed under his breath when another shout was punctuated by a loud thud.

Thrax's little face turned up to gaze at him, looking worried when Megatron's cursing, pained voice made it through the door next. "Is sire in trouble?"

"He's _always_ in trouble, darling." Starscream forced a smile and pressed Thrax back to the berth, pulling the covers tight across his shoulders and tucking him in. Tight. Thrax blinked in surprise, unable to move and effectively trapped by his own sheets.

"You wait here," Starscream told him.

He stepped out of Thrax's room and waited until the door had swept completely shut behind him before letting his faux smile evaporate and turning optics of laser red _fire_ on Megatron and Invicta where the moronic pair were engaged in a _battle to the death_ (a play fight) on his berth.

Invicta was, naturally, winning.

"I thought I told you to put her to bed!" He hissed, shoulders hunched up to his audials.

Megatron looked up from where Invicta had a tiny hand on his nose, trying to _rip_ it off his face. "She _is_ in a bed-" he winced, trying to prise tiny claws out of his facial armour seams.

"That is not how you put a sparkling to recharge!" Starscream stamped his pede, tired, frustrated, and close to having a very Mission-like temper tantrum.

"I'm not a sparkling!" Invicta's squeaky, indignant little voice protested, and she punched Megatron in the optic with a tiny balled up fist over the offense. Megatron winced again, baring his denta in a growl, blinking the abused optic back into focus.

Starscream wasn't taking this anymore. "That's it." He strode forward, arms open. "Give her to me."

Invicta went from attacking her sire to clinging to him, "But I was winning!"

"And you're about to lose, badly, if you don't get off him and go to your room this _instant_." Starscream snarled.

Invicta glared at him stubbornly and didn't move. Megatron was completely unhelpful, laid under her as if her minuscule weight was pinning him down. He looked between them fearfully, like he didn't know which of them to fear more.

"Now!" Starscream barked, thrusting a finger in the direction of her door.

With a huff that was more suited to a teenager than a five year old, Invicta rolled off of Megatron's chest and jumped down off the berth, stamping her little pedes as she went. Starscream watched her progress, not trusting her to make the short trip unsupervised.

Megatron stood to follow her. "I'll-"

"No." Starscream thrust the finger at him next, "You'll do nothing. You only excite her."

Megatron looked offended. "_She_ attacked _me_!"

"She's _five_." Starscream snarled. "You can't control a five year old sparkling?!"

"I'm _not_ a _sparkling_!" Was shrieked from behind the closed door to Invicta's room.

"You-!" Starscream whirled on Megatron. "Can finish putting Thrax to recharge since it was your anarchistic behaviour that woke up in the first place. I will deal with _her_."

Megatron snorted something that sounded like 'good luck'. But Starscream didn't need luck. He had dealt with Mission at this age. Alone. And he'd manage just fine.

Almost.

He mustered his courage opened the door to her room, starting with a menacing threat of, "You'd better be in the berth or so help me-"

He stopped. She was on her berth. Sideways across it. Optics offline and mouth wide open like she'd fallen asleep the second she'd thrown herself across it in a strop. Starscream's spark softened despite itself.

Looked like Megatron had worn her out. He supposed that was another way of putting a sparkling to recharge. Perhaps not the accredited Soundwave method, but still...

He lifted her tiny legs onto the berth and pulled the covers over her. She immediately rolled herself up in them, curling up under their warmth, wings falling flat to her back.

Starscream dropped a kiss to her helm and took an image capture of her little face, so handsome when she didn't have it screwed up in defiance.

One down. He stepped out of her room, and again sighed when he heard a stream of muffled giggles from Thrax's room next door. Could that mech not do anything right?!

Ready to give Megatron Pit for being an incompetent leader and a worse sire, Starscream barged his way in. He found Thrax sat up, wide awake and giggling, and Megatron taking up the vast majority of Thrax's little berth, deep in recharge and snoring.

Starscream reached over Megatron's bulk for Thrax, catching him under the arms and lifting him up to his chest. "How long did he last?"

"As soon as he laid down." Thrax wrapped arms around Starscream's neck and tucked his head under his chin.

"He's old." Starscream explained, carrying Thrax to his room instead, leaving Megatron to snore on his own. "You can keep me company."

Starscream had come to realise he missed sharing a berth with Mission- a little frame tucked between his wings and kicking him all through the night, someone small and loving to hold. It was a very different experience to bunking with Megatron, who radiated heat to an uncomfortable level and splayed every limb without a regard for how much room that left Starscream.

Not to mention the snoring.

Having Thrax beside him reminded him of that time when it was just him and Mission, alone in the galaxy, together in a hard, cramped berth on some distant space port, never really able to rest or take his optics off the door, watching the shadows pass through the crack at the bottom, praying none of them lingered.

His arm tightened around Thrax at the thought.

"Are you okay?" Thrax whispered in the darkness.

"Fine." Starscream murmured, sending a ping to Megatron's comm link to wake him up anyway, only because if the big idiot stayed in Thrax's berth all night he'd misalign a back-strut and be next to useless for days. "I'm fine."

A grumpy Megatron appeared to stumble his way through the darkness a few moments later and as Starscream's anxieties lessened, so did his grip on Thrax. He tugged Megatron down into the berth so that Thrax's tiny frame lay between them, just like Mission's would have after a nightmare, when he would clamber into their berth, insist nothing was wrong, 'accidentally' kick Megatron in the chest, and tuck himself into Starscream's arms.

It was a nice memory to cling to in his eldest's absence. Mission may be off exploring the joys off independence, but Starscream still had sparklings left to coddle yet.

And maybe more after them, he thought to himself privately, casting a sly glance an oblivious Megatron's way.

They were getting rather good at this parenting thing.

Well, _he_ was. 


End file.
